


a penny for your thoughts?

by poesword



Series: original poetry [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Drowning Mention, Existentialism, Poetry, Teen Angst, because i am allowed to be emotional and naive, before u ask yes ik i sound obnoxious but how else am i gonna get rid of the feeling?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-28 00:18:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14437344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poesword/pseuds/poesword
Summary: sometimes i have conversations in my head about how i feel. they dont always make sense, and i usually forget everything immediately after.





	a penny for your thoughts?

sometimes i feel too much and too little. i am too much and not enough, and never just right. how can i ever be enough for everyone? i can stretch myself thin and transparent but i'd never shrink back to my original form. i will have lost some piece of me and won't know until it is the one thing i need most. i can curl up in a ball and shroud myself but i'd never be able to rise to my true height. i will be less of me and less of me until there is no more me. what then? will i give up from myself something that is nothing?

( either way, i lose every last bit of me. )

i do well in school. high 80s, glowing reputation, yet it is somehow not good enough. i am a thing of which to be compared to others, the copy of a painting, made and sold in cold and distant masses, while the original is gloried and revered, seen as the better, though it is completely identical to its clones. is that all i am? a boost for others, the brick that is involuntarily held down by mortar on the bottom tier? will that be all i will ever be?

( am i making myself mad by asking? )

sometimes i feel like there is a blanket of darkness rising over me, a tsunami wave sucking in its breath and waiting for the perfect moment to release, to smother, to drag me down in its currents and chain me to the oceanfloor with the shipwrecks and anglerfish. and there, those millions of miles below the sky, my lungs would fill with thick fluid, daring me to gasp once more, to challenge the god of the sea and his deadly wrath. i could try to die, but who would that help? that does not solve the problem, it erases it, and if i am anything, i am stupidly stubborn. a problem demands to be solved.

( i demand to solve it. )

i want to find the joy in the small things. i want to become friends with the stray cats, and have a favourite cherry tree, and find the perfect spot in the park where the sun slinks across the sky for hours. i want my worries and insecurities to be nothing but a weed in the sidewalks that i can march up to and snap th stem of. i want, i want, i want. we are taught very young that it is selfish to want things we do not need. it is nonvirtuous to enjoy things in bulk, to indulge in our desires, no matter how childish they are. i want to return to the days when i didn't care about virtues, or judgement, or feeling ashamed of doing things that make me happy.

( i want, but i will never have. )

sometimes i feel like screaming is the only way i'll be free. shouting until my voice is a choking whisper and my throat is scratchy and dry. i would yell, not holding back a single sliver of anger, and i'd expose every lie, every unkind act ever done against me.  _why do you act like im not there?_ i could say.  _why am i your second-best?_ i could say.  _why am i the villain in your story, when i am only defending myself from you who treats me with nothing but disappointment and regret?_ i know i deserve better. and even though it takes every ounce of my energy to not obstruct that right, i always let those words pierce a hole in my armour.

( my achilles' heel is hidden in plain sight; no one has realized they keep hitting it. )

i am deeply flawed. my grudges could last eons if mortality had no grip on me. i try hard not to, but my thoughts are polarized. i believe nothing and everything. i am a master of contradiction. i should not be, and yet i am, and i will stay as so. i am desparate for company, but i steal away in solitude.

( i am unhinged and volatile; a wisp of a human being, rigidly restrained. )


End file.
